England's Cooking
by iEATglaresforBREAKFAST
Summary: Us/Uk oneshot Enlgand's cooking lands him in the hospital,and America just has to see for himself


**Hey! Yeah I know I'm supposed to be writing that other thing right? Well this idea of England in a hospital sorta popped into meh head while I was on my way to get a cardio-echo-gram-thingy! Sooo yeah this just happened…. ENJOY! **

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><p>This was one of the most embarrassing moments in England's life… And to make it worse America had found out about it and was laughing his ass off. <em>'What do you want to bet that damn frog face told him.'<em>

He really needed to reconsider who he associated him self with, really his current associations would laugh while better ones would actually WORRY about him.

England was currently in the hospital, not because he got hit in the head with a star or because he was really sick.

No, England found himself being laughed at by the love of his life, in a hospital bed, because of his…cooking.

Sure yea the others always made fun of his inability to cook but it wasn't true; or, at least that's what he told himself.

"Bloody hell, America! Stop laughing! This is serious!" England snapped, it wasn't his bloody fault that the oven decided to explode!

"But dude, we all told you somethin' like this was gonna happen someday! But did you listen to us? Noooo, to busy reassuring your self that british food doesn't kill innocent people everyday to listen! You're lucky France told me about this so that I could come help you recover, being the awesome hero that I am!"

_'So it was France, I'll kill the git next time I see him!'_ England thought with a sigh, "America, your grammar is appalling. My name isn't 'dude', it's 'something' not 'somethin', and it's 'going to' not 'gonna'! Stop butchering my language!" England reprimanded.

America just rolled his eyes, "Come on! What even happened anyways? All France said was that your cooking was so terrible that it put you here!" After this last statement it seemed that America was once again holding back laughter.

Brows furrowed in annoyance, England began, "Don't you dare laugh but, I..eh..decided to make something special, for…someone…" England decided to leave out that America was the "someone" England referred to, sadly the young American in front of him was eager to find out who said "someone" was.

"Someone? Iggy! Be more specificic, or whatever, who? Tell me!" America pleaded.

"No." was England's curt reply.

"Pleeeaase?" America's eyes widened, his lips set in a pouting position, England knew what would be coming next and looked away as to avoid giving in to the infamous "Puppy Dog Eyes" look.

"Unless you want me to change my mind about telling you what happened, I advise that you stop pouting this instant!" When England looked to the younger nation, he saw that for once he had listened.

"So as I was saying, I had was making mumsie's secret recipe I had it mostly ready…"

_Earlier_

_"All that's left is to put it in the oven for an hour!" With this England set the temperature to 750 (he thought it was 350) and proceeded to put the pan inside._

_About 45 minutes later England heard a beeping noise coming from the kitchen._

_He looked up from his novel 'Has it been an hour already?' (How hasn't he smelled the burning yet?) England shrugged and went to the kitchen._

_What he saw when he got there wasn't at all what he had been going for. The oven was had lots of smoke billowing out, it seemed as if the thing was going to explode!_

_Which, of course, it did._

_France having seen smoke coming from England's stopped by to see what was going on. "Angleterre, have you been cooking again?" There was no response, as France walked into the kitchen he understood why._

_There lying on the floor was England, he had bits and pieces of what seemed to be, his oven. France being the "nice" country he was, gently *cough*not*cough* picked England up and took him to the nearest hospital._

_Present Time_

"Oh, wow, England, I knew you were bad but seriously? Blowing up your oven? Not even I could manage that!" America started laughing again.

"Typical America, you wouldn't be laughing if I had died would you?" America eruptly stopped his laughing, head down he murmured something that sounded like a 'no'.

"Thought so, you know, as much as I loathe to admit it, I owe France if he hadn't come to my house I would have bled out…" England let the sentence hang.

After a few moments England spoke again, "I would do it again to. But on the condition that the recipe would've worked out first."

America thought about what England said for a moment then asked "Who's so important that you would go through that again, just to give them your…not…great…cooking?"

"None of your business America." Why did he like the git again?

"Please, Iggy?" He started with the look again, and again England turned his head.

"Iggy? Don't look away! I wanna know! PLEAAAASE?" God, if he wasn't looking away, England would have spilled his guts out…

"It's 'want to' not 'wanna' and my name is 'Enlgand', not 'Iggy'."

America didn't listen, he just started to ramble about wanting to know who it was England would endanger himself for, not that he used those exact words.

"England please tell me… No one could possibly be worth you doing that, and almost dying and why would you say that? Who is it? Is it France?"

"NO! Why would I do that for frog-face? Seriously if you're going to guess, at least try." England immediately regretted saying that because, America took him seriously and was naming pretty much every country there was.

"Maybe Hungary? Austria? Please tell me it's not Canada?" America almost looked heartbroken with that last one, almost.

"Who? I've never heard of Canada…"

"My brother, Canada, the quiet one that looks sorta like me?" England thought about it and after a while he remembered. _'Ahh yes the one that I mistook for America that one day.'_ How he had managed to do that was beyond him.

"Ah…yes I remember him now, why would it be a problem for me to like him, hmm?" England was curious, would it be a problem to America, and if so, what kind of problem. England wasn't known for optimism so you can bet he wouldn't expect America to return his feelings.

"Well for starters he's my brother so I would have to hurt you if you hurt him. And well you keep forgetting him; he wouldn't want a boyfriend like that. Besides, he's not your type and, your defiantly not his type!"

England raised one massive eyebrow, "Oh? So who is my type, America?" If America thought he knew what his type was, he was most certainly wrong.

"Your type? Well obviously someone who's loud, to match your quietness. They would have to have blue eyes." Here England interrupted.

"Why blue eyes?"

"Because, just because. As I was saying, they would have to be strong to support you, have bad grammar so you could correct them all the time, oh and he would have to be dashing too!" He said happily.

"Is it just me or are you describing someone I know? Add cocky and you'll be getting closer."

"HEY! That's kinda mean don't you think?" America pouted.

"What, why are you getting so defensive, it's not as if you were describing yourself, now is it America?" That was kind of cruel, even by his standards.

America's face fell but then, it was like a little light bulb had appeared over his head. "Hey! I know someone who likes you! I think you'd like him!"

"Who are you talking about America, no one likes me. Not even the one I like likes me."

"I like you…" .Way. That's all England could think, surely he meant as in a friend, not the way in which England liked him…

"What do you mean, America?" He could hope, right?

"I mean exactly what I said, don't make me prove it!" Prove what? England was getting a bit confused.

"Prove what?" He repeated his last thought.

"This." America leaned closer and soon enough lips met. The kiss was short and sweet, it wasn't meant to be lustful or anything like that.

England got the message, oh did he. "A-America?" Not that he thought this was real… he had a lot of dreams like this, so it would be no surprise if it wasn't real. So as he would always do in his dreams, well not all of them, he pinched himself, hard.

"Oww." Well it definitely hurt so it must be real.

America seeming to be amused by England's antics asked "Do you always do that when someone kisses you or am I special?"

"Special, very, very special." America perked up.

"I KNEW IT! This is soo awesome, I mean I've liked you for sooo long and you like me too! You know what that means? It means we're officially a couple now!"

"Yes, I guess it does."

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><p><strong>And there it ends! That was my first kiss scene sooo forgive me if it wasn't the best. I have to go work on my other story for fear of America disowning me as a citizen! BYE!<strong>


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